They sat her next to Jake, who kept looking at her as if he was afraid she’d disappear, and they brought her coffee with a dollop of whiskey in it, and she told them everything up to and including Thornton’s deal with the Ross rifles.
“Are you thinking he’s good for another touch?” the Old Man asked when she was finished.
“We took him for fifty,” she said. “He’ll be anxious to make that back.”
“Do you think he can raise enough to make it worthwhile?”
“He raised the fifty with no trouble at all,” Jake said.
“And what about this Vanderslice fellow?”
“He’s a lop-ear,” Elizabeth said, “but he won’t do business with Thornton, so Thornton will be looking for somebody else when Vanderslice cuts him loose.”
“Too bad you and Jake can’t get in on this,” Spuds said.
Elizabeth sighed. She would have liked nothing better. “Not only can’t I get in on it, I need to get out of town. Someplace Thornton won’t find me.”
“Texas John brought your share of the score,” the Old Man said. “I’ve been holding it for you.”
Jake nudged her with his good elbow. “I tried to convince him to give it to me, but he wouldn’t do it.”
“If you steal my cut, you’ll have your other arm in a sling,” she replied, nudging him back.
That made the others roar with laughter.
When everyone had had a chance to tell her how glad they were she wasn’t dead, the Old Man took her into his office and closed the door.
“How much do you need? Texas John brought you eleven thousand.”
“I don’t want to take it all. How about two? That’ll keep me for a year, if I need to stay away that long. You keep the rest of it for me.”
He opened his safe and counted out the bills. She stuffed them into her purse.
“You should leave right now. Go straight from here to the station and take a train to Florida or somewhere. Just leave your things behind. You can buy what you need when you get where you’re going.”
He was right, she knew, but when she thought of Anna and Mrs. Bates . . . “I’ll leave tomorrow. Can you send me a telegram? I’ll tell them it’s from my aunt in South Dakota and she’s sick, so I have to go back right away.”
“Lizzie, you don’t owe these people anything.”
He was wrong, but he’d never understand. “I know, but if I just disappear, they’ll look for me, and Thornton will help them. I can’t take that chance.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Just be careful, and send me word if you need anything. In fact, send me word just to let me know you’re all right.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you know this time, but I didn’t realize you’d be so worried.”
For a second, he looked unutterably sad, and he laid a hand over hers where it rested on his desk. But only for a second. Then his mask was back in place, and he cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “You’d best be on your way before it gets dark. Those people you’re so concerned about will be wondering what’s become of you.”
She had to say good-bye to all of them before they’d let her go. Jake was the hardest, but at least now she knew he was safe. He took her hand. “Be careful, Contessa.”
“Why are you all calling me that?”
“Because you earned it, girl,” Spuds said.
When she stepped out into the alley, she needed a moment to compose herself before making her way back to the street. She’d just missed a trolley, but there’d be another along in a few minutes, so she waited on the corner.
“Cab, miss?” a voice called. The driver stood on the curb, ready to open the door for her.
She thought about the long, cold ride back to the Vanderslice house and the two thousand dollars in her purse, and she said, “Yes, thank you.”
He seemed oddly delighted with her answer, and he pulled the door open with a flourish. She had only a moment to register the odd bundle lying on the floor before someone shoved her from behind. She fell onto the bundle, which sprang to life, and the man who had pushed her climbed in on top. She scrambled up, or tried to, but two sets of hands grabbed her and dragged her up onto the seat. When she could see again, the cab was moving, and the two men were Thornton’s thugs, one sitting on each side of her.
Fear coiled in her stomach, but she knew better than to show it. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“We’re taking you for a little ride,” one of them said. “Mr. Thornton wants to see you.” He looked a little too happy about it, too.
“This is kidnapping. You’d better stop this cab and let me go at once.”
“Or what? You’ll call the cops?” he asked, still grinning.
“And when Mr. Thornton gets through with you, you won’t be able to call nobody,” the other one said.
“Shut up, Fletch,” the first one said.
But she didn’t need them to tell her what Thornton would do to her. If he’d killed his own wife, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, too. She tried to assess her chances of escape. The cab was crawling through the late-afternoon traffic, so she’d have no trouble jumping out of it. The problem would be getting by Fletch and his pal. They sat on either side of her, prepared to hold her down or catch her if she tried to flee. And even if she did get away, she’d never outrun them. Could she count on help from the people on the street? Probably not.
She was helpless, with no one to save her but herself, and no strength to rely on except her wits. She allowed herself one moment of bitterness at the plight of females who were always at the mercy of unscrupulous men. Then she began to plan.
? ? ?
“Where are you taking me?” she asked after what seemed like a long time of threading through the crowded city streets.
The two men exchanged a glance, as if trying to decide whether to answer her.
“We told you,” the first one said. “Mr. Thornton wants to see you.”
“But where is he?”
They were in a residential neighborhood now, and the streets were quieter here. A few well-dressed people strolled along the sidewalk, but the busiest time of the day was over now. People were heading to their homes. The cab suddenly stopped in front of a brownstone. She thought they were in Murray Hill.
Fletch jumped out and handed the driver a wad of bills. The other one grabbed her arm and jerked her out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. Fletch came around and took her other arm. Together they guided her up the front steps.
She could have screamed, but she doubted anyone in the surrounding houses would hear or come to investigate even if they did. People in neighborhoods like this minded their business. Besides, one of the thugs would probably have hit her, and she didn’t want to be injured when she saw Thornton. She’d need all her faculties if she hoped to survive.
The front door opened before they reached it, and Thornton stood there, watching with his piglike eyes. The advice she’d given Anna back at the workhouse echoed in her head. Don’t let them see your fear. She couldn’t quite manage a smile, but at least she was sure she didn’t look as terrified as she felt.
“Good evening, Miss Perkins, or should I call you Miss Miles?” he said, stepping back so the thugs could push her into the house. One of them closed the door behind them.
“You may call me either one,” she said.